Chapter IX: The Escape

When the corporal took me below again I asked him to let me get some clean clothes from my bag. I selected a pair of white duck trousers and a white shirt. I wanted the lightest suit that I could get. The corporal probably thought that I intended dressing neatly for the whipping in the morning. I was very particular in putting the shackles on my ankles, the one with the large eyes going on the left leg, so as to be at the knob end of the bar. The big one went on the right leg. I could not prevent myself from grinning while he was so carefully locking the end of the bar. He gave the lock an extra pull, to satisfy himself that it was fast, and walked off. My hammock, instead of being lashed up sideways, as customary, was merely rolled loosely and left on deck, so that I could spread it out for sleeping at night-time. I made a sort of lounge with it and took life easy, for the time being. At nine in the evening, the midshipmen and clerks got into their hammocks, leaving their clothes on top of their sea-chests. I spread out my bed and lay down. My position had to be straight out, on my back, as the iron bar had to be taken into consideration. Soon all but myself were asleep. Time passed very slowly. I knew the corporal would have a look at me about midnight and that then I should be ready for my trip. I could tell the time by hearing the ship's bell striking every half hour. About one in the morning, I was getting very uneasy in my mind, as I knew it was about time for the tide to change and run out to sea--a very serious matter for me. At last my friend made his appearance. Everything was secure and satisfactory, so he went away. Then I commenced operations. First, I got out of the shackles, and taking off all my clothing, tied it in a neat, flat bundle. My money and knife I left hanging to my neck. Next I gathered up some clothing belonging to the midshipmen and laid it on my bed. Two pairs of shoes went next. One pair was stuck in the shackles, the other pair was stuck, heels downward, into the first pair. Then two caps were stuck together for a head. The whole, being covered over with my blanket, made a very good dummy. I was highly pleased with my midnight work. The toes, sticking straight up, gave a very artistic effect to the job. Taking my hammock lashing and bundle, I went to the midshipmen's messroom.

With a stool to stand on, I took a view of the harbour from the small port-hole--about twenty inches square. These holes are open in harbour only for ventilation and light on the lower deck. At sea they must be kept closed and lashed securely. As I expected, the tide was ebbing out to sea. The ship had swung around "head on" to the city. I had no choice but to go, however. Fastening my clothes to the end of the lashing, I lowered them about eight feet, not intending to get them wet. Securing the lashing to an eyebolt, inward, I got out of the port-hole and let myself down into the water. The clothes had been dropped too low and got wet. That made them too heavy to fasten on the top of my head as I had intended. I released the bundle from the lashing, keeping it in my left hand, and then I drifted past the frigate's stern with the tide. In a few minutes I commenced swimming at an angle from the frigate, and then headed for the city. After a long swim I began to get tired and was breathing hard from exertion. The bundle worried me, and the now swift tide became too much to contend with. I had got only a short distance past the frigate, and was convinced that I could not reach the city. Then I turned back, repassed the frigate, and headed for the southern shore. The tide, at the same time, carried me towards the entrance of the harbour. I was in hopes of getting to land before I should be carried past the Sugar Loaf. As a last recourse I could let the clothing go, and that I would not do until it became a necessity. As I was swimming at an angle with the tide, not so much exertion was needed. Much to my relief I saw the dim outline of a vessel to my left. I then swam with the tide, and in a few minutes I was holding on the anchor-chain. I had a good rest and, at the same time, thought what was best for me to do. I could easily get on board at the bow, but if it were an English vessel my name would be "Dennis," sure enough. I proposed to take no more chances than necessary that night. Finally I let go of the chain and drifted to the stern. There I found the vessel's boat in the water. I got the bundle into the boat and climbed in myself.

The first thing I did was to read the vessel's name. I was then satisfied that she was a Brazilian coaster. I wrung the water from my clothes and was soon dressed up. There were no oars in the boat; if there had been I would have cut the painter and sculled with a single oar for the western shore. When I felt strong enough, I climbed up the painter to the taffrail and got on deck. No one was to be seen, so I commenced an investigation. She was a brig. On each side of the quarter-deck was a cubby-hole--a small white house with sliding-doors, just large enough for a man to sleep in. The starboard one was empty, so I knew the captain was on shore. In the port side was the mate, asleep. The cool night wind blowing on my clothes made me quite chilly. Not having decided exactly what to do, I was standing by the wheel making up my mind. A crisis was at hand. The mate crawled out of his hole, about half awake, rubbing his eyes. He caught a glimpse of me, all dressed in white, standing close to the wheel. Before I could say a word he gave a terrible yell; then he stuttered out, "Por Dios, que es esta?"--"For God's sake, what is that?" Staggering back a few steps, he turned around and ran forward, disappearing down the forecastle scuttle. Then I went to the taffrail and got the boat's painter ready for being cast off in an instant; taking my knife from my neck, I opened it and fastened the lanyard around my right wrist. If there was to be a hostile reception, I intended to cast the boat loose and jump overboard. With the wind and strong tide, I would land somewhere, even if I had no oars. So I waited for developments. In a few minutes five men came out of the forecastle. They came aft in single file, the cook at the head with a lighted candle in his hand, the mate bringing up the rear. Then, in spite of myself, I had to laugh. It was the only time in my life at sea that I ever saw a candle on ship's deck. There are two articles which an old-time salt-water sailor has the most supreme contempt for--namely, a lantern and an umbrella. When they got close to me they were a surprised lot of men. By way of introduction, I said, "Yo soy un saltador Ingles"--"I am an English deserter." They all commenced to laugh at the mate. We soon became quite friendly, all hands considering the whole affair as a good joke. Opening the cabin skylight, they told me to get in and have a good sleep. The vessel was loaded with mahogany timber. The cabin bulkheads had been taken out and the lumber loaded through the stern ports, completely filling the brig from stem to stern. The extra sails were put in the skylight on top of the cargo. That was my bed, and a good sleep I had, even if my clothes were wet.

About seven o'clock they woke me and gave me a breakfast. I exchanged all my neat clothes with them, I getting a ragged blue jumper and overalls and a ship hat with the rim all frayed out. My shoes, stockings, and knife I retained for my own use. The boat had been hauled alongside and loaded with firewood to be taken ashore. When ready I got into it, and, taking an oar, helped row for shore. The mate gave me a friendly parting and wished me success. I thanked him, and said: "Cuidado por los brujos!"--"Look out for ghosts!" When close to shore I asked to be landed on the beach, as it would not do for me to go near the Government dock. They pulled close to a ledge of rocks and I jumped out and thanked them for their kindness. Away I went for the railroad track.

Having heard that English contractors were building a new branch, it was my intention to offer them my valuable services. I started down the track quite lively and independent. The sun became very warm and my feet sore. Then I got tired of continually looking at the telegraph-poles, each one being numbered, like houses in a city. What the reason for that was I never found out. Every station I came to I was ordered off the track, but the explanation that I was to work on the road was satisfactory. To my inquiries as to how far the new road was situated, the answer was always the same, "A few leagues farther." My five milreis now came into requisition. Some time in the afternoon I went into a general store and purchased a glass of wine, some crackers and cheese. After my feast was over, I continued my journey. Soon I had come among the coffee plantations. They looked like large cherry orchards with the trees full of ripe fruit. Two coffee grains flat side together, surrounded by a spongy fibre, then a tough, smooth skin, the whole about the size of a large cherry--that is the coffee bean while on the tree.

I do not know how many miles I walked on the Terro Carril de Dom Pedro III, but I was well tired out, and my head dizzy, from looking at the numbers on the telegraph-poles. The same information--"A few leagues farther on"--was becoming monotonous. Four milreis had been expended for food. With but one milreis left I was getting discouraged. Suddenly I changed my mind, and turned back for Rio de Janeiro. At the first station I was ordered off the track. Then I had to walk on the wagon road. One evening, about dusk, I arrived at the city, tired, hungry, and footsore. Two "dumps"--large copper coins worth forty reis each--was the last of my money. I invested one dump for a piece of cocoanut, the other for bread. That was the last food I ever ate on Brazilian soil. I had often heard sailors joking about "Mahogany Hotel-on-the-Beach," and there I went for a night's lodging. A large pile of mahogany timber hewed square for shipping, some pieces being several feet shorter than others, would make a space large enough for a man to sleep in. No doubt but that it was a very valuable edifice, but, at the same time, very uncomfortable. My apartment was about eight feet in length and only twenty inches in height and width. Early in the morning I was out of bed, with no money nor breakfast, hardly knowing what to do. There was only one thing to be done, that was to get on some vessel and get away from the city. While walking around the docks, I met the "runner" from Portuguese Joe's boarding-house. He was an American. I tried to avoid him, but it was useless. He had seen and recognised me.

"Halloa, how long have you been ashore?" he asked.

"Oh, quite a long time," I replied.

"See here, Murray, I know all about your deserting. Come down to the house and stay until we can get you away."

No, I would not take any chances in a boarding-house.

"You want to ship, don't you? Come with me and I will put you on a vessel right off."

"How much in advance?"

"Eighteen dollars," he answered.

Then I told him how I was fixed, and also that he could ship me and keep all the advance money for his trouble.